


Heat

by karuvapatta



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Forced Masturbation, Ice Play, Intersex Loki, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/pseuds/karuvapatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has to be locked away for his own protection after he went into heat and revealed himself to be an omega. Thor pays him a visit in his cell. Shameless, shameless PWP.</p><p>Now with chapter 2!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He hates to see his brother reduced to this: this whimpering creature, with hands chained above his head and bare legs writhing on the ground. He is forced into a seating position, clearly uncomfortable on the stone floor of the cell.

Thor stops. He understands now why the omegas are locked away. The scent overwhelms his senses, rich and inviting. His vision fogs over and he sways on his legs, cock suddenly throbbing and hard. It's impossible to think about anything other—other than Loki's pale skin, long legs, his willing flesh opening itself to welcome Thor, like a ripened fruit ready to be devoured.

He takes another uncertain step forward. Loki has noticed him, it seems – his whines get louder, and he tosses his head, looking to Thor with eyes that are bright with fever. His legs part, perhaps unwillingly, perhaps not.

The barrier fades when Thor approaches it, and then closes behind him. The air is so much thicker here, so much that his breathing quickens and heart beats loudly in his chest.

"Are you well?" he growls. He hasn't meant to use his voice thusly, but he can scarcely control his body anymore.

Loki doesn't answer. It's no surprise – it was such a blow to him, to go into his first heat and reveal himself as a lowly omega to all of Asgard. He hasn't spoken to Thor in ages, sulking around his chambers. But it was getting too dangerous – the scent of his tender, untouched sex was making people edgy. In the end he had to be locked away here, for his own good. Until he could be offered to an alpha worthy of taking a prince of Asgard as his mate.

Thor knows the dangers of coming here. Their status notwithstanding, Loki is still his brother. But Thor – Thor is Asgard's most high-born alpha. It is his right to be the first to choose a mate, particularly one such as Loki. And he fights it—he fought it—he's fighting it still—

Loki's dressed in a simple tunic and loose breeches. He's wriggling his hips, trying to put some pressure on his aching cunt. His cock is swollen, tenting the material and leaking through it. This frenzy painted his cheeks red and he's panting for breath, looking pleadingly at Thor.

There's a pitcher of cool water in the corner of the cell and clean rags to go with it. Thor picks them up and steels himself before coming closer.

"I can't," he says. Apologizes. "You know I cannot."

Loki whimpers.

His eyes are dark with desire, unfocused. He closes them when Thor touches wet cloth to his forehead and then makes the tiniest, most pathetic sound. Water rivulets down his face in gleaming drops. His skin is so heated, Thor is surprised he isn't steaming with it yet.

"This isn't what you need, is it?" Thor murmurs. His hand moves on its own accord to brush Loki's trembling thigh. "Isn't where it hurts?"

His brother. His wilful, contrary brother, now reduced to his most basic instinct. How easily his legs part for Thor, how sweetly he whines, arching his hips to get Thor's hand where he wants it—

Thor peels back his breeches to look. He has seen Loki before, when they bathed or slept together, and thought nothing of it. But then again, Loki has never been like this.

His cock is curving upwards, heavy and red. But it's his cunt that Thor's gaze is drawn to, gleaming with juice. He touches it, transfixed, and finds his fingers slipping between the slick folds.

Loki pants, open-mouthed, and thrusts his hips upward, begging for more. He has foregone all shame in the face of his need, it seems; had he been in his right mind, he would never have acted so brazenly. But he _isn't_ , Thor reminds himself, and withdraws his hand, ignoring Loki's wordless protest.

"Ssh," he says. The water in the pitcher is pleasantly cool; he drips it on Loki's face, letting it comfort him, and then lands some droplets straight into Loki's eager mouth. His brother's throat bobs in time with his gulps; and the sight of it goes straight to Thor's cock. Oh, how lovely Loki would look with Thor's cock between his pink lips, sucking and working it with his talented tongue. And then Thor would let him have it, would spill his seed and watch Loki swallow it all—

He has to count to three to keep himself from giving in to the temptation. Three, and then ten, and then a hundred perhaps; Loki keeps making needy noises.

Thor wets the rag again. This time he takes a deep fortifying breath.

"Let me," he murmurs, soothingly, and puts the cloth between Loki's legs.

The sound his brother makes is wild, frenzied; he writhes when the cold rag touches his overheated flesh. He's sobbing, tears running down his face while his hands shudder in the bonds. It's cruel, Thor thinks, but also necessary; an omega shouldn't know pleasure at the hand of anyone but their alpha. Shouldn't be trusted to. But he also knows that he cannot let Loki suffer like this.

He hopes dearly that the cold water would lessen Loki's need somehow. But it doesn't seem that way; Loki loses himself in the touch, pants and pleads for more with every quivering muscle. The scent of his heat intensifies; Thor can barely breathe.

He runs the rag up, to the root of Loki's cock, and lets the water drip down his cunt. Loki's thighs lock around his arm, holding him, _urging_ him, and Thor almost smiles at this wanton display.

He aches for this, almost as badly as Loki does. His every instinct screams at him, to mount Loki, take him, _claim him_. It is his duty and his right, as an alpha, as prince of Asgard.

And surely Loki would want this? If he must belong to someone – surely better to Thor than some nameless brute? Someone who would abuse him, use his beautiful body for their own pleasure and then discard him, like so many unlucky omegas—

He has leant too close. Loki's hot mouth brushes against his jaw in a clumsy kiss. He can barely restrain himself from responding, but he must – must—

His hand falters. And then he presses it further in, finding Loki's entrance wet and open. Alas, no, there's – there're ice cubes in the water pitcher, keeping it cold. Thor almost spills the contents on the floor while trying to get one out. But then he has it, cold and solid, a small cube that he can fit between two fingers.

It's easy, so easy to slip it between Loki's folds. He watches Loki's face, so lost in pleasure, babbling something incomprehensible. The cold must be electrifying against heated flesh; Thor wishes he could sample it for himself. But—

Again, Loki's legs fall open, impossibly wide. His cock twitches violently; his entire body seems to focus on Thor's hand, and on the ice cube he's slipping into Loki's waiting cunt.

"That's right," Thor pants. He's painfully hard now. Loki's wet mouth has latched itself onto his jaw, distracting him from all the reasons why fucking Loki _right now_ would be a bad idea. "Open—open for me—"

He can't imagine how it feels. He is an alpha, unused to being manhandled and penetrated. Certainly not used to giving in so easily. But, oh, Loki whimpers in his ear, his breath hot and damp, and his cunt quivers around Thor's fingers. It's so impossibly hot; the ice must be a shock to his nerves.

It doesn't take long, not long at all. Loki falls apart at his hands, nice and easy and so unlike himself. It's the heat, Thor knows, his nature getting the better of him; but he can't help but stare as Loki clenches around him, and breathes shallowly. His climax builds up fast, his body coating Thor's fingers in more sweet-smelling juices. His cock twitches too, spurting seed onto the green fabric of his tunic.

And then he sags, boneless and spent. Thor waits patiently before removing his hand, eliciting one last pitiful, tiny moan.

He cleans Loki afterwards, washes him with rags and helps him put on fresh clothes. Loki's eyes remain half-lidded and unfocused. But then—then, slowly, he comes back to himself; a moment of peace before his heat takes over again.

He looks Thor straight in the eyes: resigned and bitter. And he is lovely like this, he has always been lovely. Thor's beautiful brother.

"This isn't enough," Loki rasps, gritting his teeth. "I need _more_ , you useless fool—"

Thor snorts, in spite of everything. He missed _Loki_. "What do you need, then?"

Loki glares at him. But he can't quite suppress the tremors in his body when Thor leans closer and brushes his thumb on Loki's lower lip.

"Your cock," Loki says, quiet and reluctant but perfectly clear. "Your seed."

"And why should I give it to you?" Thor can't help but tease. He knows it's impossible, he knows he _can't_. Loki knows this also.

"Because you want me," Loki parts his mouth, lets Thor slip his finger in. "You always have. Do not pretend, _brother_."

There's nothing that Thor can say that would make this all right. So he settles for the truth. "I do," and: "You're so beautiful."

Loki snarls. His pride is still in shambles; still an omega, thrashing against invisible bonds. But his heat is coming back, not at all relieved by his orgasm.

"Do it, then," he rasps. "Mount me—make me yours—"

Thor shakes his head.

"I can't," he says. "I mustn't."

He knows it's true, even if he can no longer remember why. But he leaves. He manages to leave, each step heavier than the other, weighed down by the intensity of Loki's scent.

Thor's an alpha. He's stronger than this – surely, he is.

But that night, and the next one, he tosses and turns in his bed; and knows this to be a lie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, a plot!

Thor manages to hold his tongue during the negotiations. He smiles and nods; he clenches his fists. The Jotnar don't seem to notice.

"Father," he says afterwards. "You cannot mean to do this."

Odin turns his impassive, one-eyed gaze towards him. His silence confirms that Thor spoke out of turn, even though they are in the privacy of Odin's study and there's no-one to overhear it.

"Can't I?" Odin asks mildly.

"It's Loki," Thor says. "He is your son and my brother; you cannot give him to a Jotun warlord!"

He feels unnerved by his father's serenity and by the long, heavy silence that follows.

"I cannot give him to _you_ , either," Odin says in the end.

It's like a slap to Thor; he stands, stunned. No, he has guarded himself closely. He hasn't approached Loki again until his heat has run its course. Surely their father cannot know what passed between them in the dungeons?

"If you are to be king of Asgard you ought to learn that you will not always get what you want," Odin says, shortly before dismissing him. "Loki has accepted it. So should you."

***

Loki has _not_ accepted it.

When Thor arrives in his brother's chambers, he finds them in chaos. Chairs and tables have been knocked over, or straight up torn apart; some of Loki's books are glowing red, reduced to darkened flecks soaring up while flames eat up pages upon pages of precious knowledge.

Amidst all this, Loki is trembling with fury. An attempt was made to get him to look pretty and docile for his new alpha. And while his beauty is only accentuated by the richly decorated black tunic and a simple coronet, his gaze screams murder.

"It's you," he sneers. "Back, are we? My goodness gracious, Odin must be beside himself with joy now that he has finally found a use for me…"

"Father isn't doing this to hurt you," Thor says.

He shouldn't have. Loki is quick and deadly in close quarters, and the punch he aims at Thor's jaw almost finds it mark. Thor manages to grab his wrists beforehand, but it's a close call.

"Stop," he says.

And, inexplicably, Loki does. He is panting for breath, face only inches from Thor's own; his pupils widen. Thor can feel the pulse under his thumb speed up. Loki's scent, rich and pungent as befits an unmated omega, fills his nostrils.

Everything he has tried to bury, the longing and the pure, unbridled lust – it all flares up. Thor tightens his grip on Loki's narrow wrists, just so. A tiny whimper escapes Loki's mouth.

"I thought your heat was over," Thor says roughly. He sways closer, towards the source of the scent.

"It is," Loki says quietly. He makes no attempt to free himself. If anything he's keeping unnaturally still, even as Thor's nose presses to his hair.

"It doesn't smell like it is," Thor murmurs. It's less pronounced, true, less overwhelming; but no less enticing.

He lets go of Loki's wrist to cradle the back of his neck. This way it's easier to breathe him in, beginning from his hairline, down the soft black curls, behind his ear and to the place where Loki's jaw meets his neck. His lips brush against skin; he parts them, just enough to _taste_ —

"Thor," Loki says, trembling. "Don't."

He is an omega. Just an omega, in a desperate need of being mated. He is a danger to himself and others, walking around in the open, flaunting it in everyone's faces. Thor has seen the looks people have been giving Loki, curious at first, then angry, and then wild. An omega has no right to refuse; Loki, being Loki, does it all the time.

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Thor reminds him now. His teeth scrape on the shell of Loki's ear and the angle of his jaw.

"Why? Because I'm nothing?" Loki asks bitterly.

Thor wants to say, _No, because you are_ everything _, you fool, and you can't keep it hidden_.  But it leaves a bad taste in his mouth: Loki is to be given away to someone else. He is not Thor's to keep.

"Because you're an omega," Thor says. It's the truth, and it's not well-received; Loki stiffens in his hold. "No, listen to me," Thor forces Loki to meet his gaze. "Your mate will not be as kind to you."

"Damn him," Loki snarls. "Damn them all to Hel. I'd rather be bent over and bred like a bitch than willingly bow to a _Jotun_."

Thor growls. Partially because he knows Loki is scared beneath all that wounded pride, and partially—partially because no, he will _not_ allow this, he won't let anyone put their cock anywhere near Loki.

Loki's scent is getting more pronounced. It's so heavy and sweet, Thor doesn't want to share it with anyone; he pushes Loki forward, crowds him against the mirror he has been using to make himself presentable for an alpha that _would not care_. Thor has seen the Jotun, how large and imposing he was; he could easily imagine his huge, cold hands spreading Loki apart, keeping his thighs in place while the bastard speared Loki with his cock. And Loki would cry out and then _let him_ , making those needy little noises he is making right now under Thor's touch.

He is just an omega, he would roll over and obey the first alpha that mated him. He can't control it—

"You're making this worse," Loki whines. "You're—"

Thor ignores him. Loki's black tunic is silky-soft, clinging to Loki's body in an effort to make him seem slimmer than he truly is. It's pretty, but Thor wants it gone, he will rip it apart with his teeth if he has to, just so that he can bite and bruise and lick every inch of Loki's body.

Oh. It's easy to strip Loki naked. His mouth may be protesting but his body is telling a different story, triggered into another heat by the presence of a powerful alpha. And even his mouth is doing a poor job of protesting – it searches blindly for Thor's lips and then only gasps when Thor denies him.

He twists Loki around, holds his neck with one hand and his wrist with the other. They face the mirror, but Loki seems too blissed out to care.

"Look," Thor pants in his ear. "Look how lovely you are."

Loki is gloriously naked, his body on display for Thor's eyes alone. And he is arching back in Thor's hold, his hips jutting forward. Thor can see his swollen cock and then the way his body splits below it, into two folds that shield his cunt.

Loki does look at himself, with half-lidded eyes and open mouth. Like this Thor's greater size is even more obvious – he is still wearing his ceremonial armour, bright red cape flaring behind them. But Loki seems to enjoy the sight – his free hand travels to his cunt, dipping inside—

"No," Thor growls.

He is obeyed instantly – not even Loki can go against a direct command from his alpha. But he makes his displeasure known, whining loudly and raking his fingernails across his sweaty thigh to keep them from touching.

But Thor understands now. He sees why omegas are bound during their heat and then watched closely: if their bodies truly belong to the alphas, then so does their pleasure. No-one should be permitted to touch Loki like this, not even Loki himself.

"Ssh," he says into Loki's ear, nipping it gently. Then he takes both of Loki's hands into a loose hold behind his back and brushes sweaty hair from his face. "I've got you."

He curls his fingers around Loki's cock and tugs. It's heavy and full, fitting nicely into his palm; he strokes it several times, runs his thumb over the slit and then drags back the foreskin to take a better look at the pink, spongy head.

Loki shifts his hips and then bites his lower lip, probably to keep himself from moaning. It's a small act of defiance, but so very _Loki_ that Thor can't help a rush of affection, completely unlike the blinding heat of his lust. He presses a kiss to the side of Loki's neck, breathing in his potent scent, and tries to find the right angle to bring Loki off—

Loki comes with a startled cry. His cock pulses in Thor's hand, sprouting seed onto the clear surface of the mirror. It marks their reflection and Thor can only stare, transfixed, at the picture they make.

His arm wraps around Loki's middle and he parts the outer lips of his cunt, eager to see its rosy hues in the mirror. Loki's cock twitches and Loki himself trembles in Thor's hold, his thighs parting.

"You are a horrible tease, brother," Loki breathes out through clenched teeth. "Do I have to _beg_ to get you to fuck me?"

"I can't," Thor says. It sounds weak and hollow. "I want to—"

"I know you want to, you imbecile," Loki says. His eyes regained their lucidity and Loki's reflection is giving Thor a deeply unimpressed look. "You can't seem to keep your hands off me."

Thor laughs into his hair and hugs him tightly. "It's your scent, brother," he says. "You can't imagine how it feels – it's impossible to resist."

 Loki's mouth twists into a bitter smile. "Well, I certainly hope my new _alpha_ will share your thoughts on this subject."

Thor's hold, light as it was, tightens. Loki's pained wince does not escape his attention, but it's nothing on the hot flare of jealousy burning in his gut.

 _Loki's alpha_. The—the thrice-damned Jotun, who presumes to take Thor's brother away from him, into _Jotunheim_ —

"Let me go," Loki says. "You had your fun, and now I need a bath."

It's against Thor's every instinct to let Loki out of his hold, but he complies. The pearly-white beads of semen on the mirror disappear with a flick of Loki's hand and a green spark of seidr. Satisfied, Loki marches away.

Yet again, Thor has found no relief. He is uncomfortably hard and his skin is beading with sweat underneath the ceremonial armour; he strips it off and follows Loki into the bathing chamber. He is just in time to see the dark-haired head disappear beneath the surface of the water, the sunken pool deep enough to sit at the bottom.

A stylized fountain sprouts icy-cold water into the bath. Thor shivers and splutters, but at least it helps to clear his head. Loki is still hiding; only an occasional bubble of air implies he isn't trying to drown himself.

Finally – finally, Loki emerges. He breaks the surface with a deep inhale of air, wet hair plastered to his skull. Still, Thor's breath catches in his throat – he has seen Loki naked, always admired his grace and beauty, but now—

He watches, unhappily. Loki notices his stare and shrugs.

"Can you hand me a towel?" he asks, soaping up his arms.

Thor complies. The soap is heavily scented, masking Loki's natural smell. Probably chosen for this very reason, now that Thor thinks about it.

"Why is Father giving you away to that Jotun?" he asks, with an armful of fluffy white towels, waiting on Loki like a handmaiden and perfectly happy to do so. It strikes him now that Loki is _leaving_ , he will leave—he won't be here anymore, won't be Thor's brother and friend, and the subject of every shameful fantasy that has kept him up at night.

A dark look passes over Loki's face. Still he continues to wash himself methodically.

"He wants a civil war in Jotunheim," he says. "Once Angrboda possesses an heir, he will be able to challenge Laufey's authority. I was given to understand he has always wanted the throne for himself. And a divided Realm is a weak one…"

Rage boils inside Thor. "Can't the damned monsters breed with one of their own?" he asks, angrily. "Why must _you_ go?"

Loki blinks at him, visibly surprised. Then several emotions pass over his face, too fast for Thor to decipher them, and he smiles. "I have no idea. Perhaps omegas are scarce in Jotunheim."

"Probably," Thor snorts. "I'm surprised a race as violent and destructive as theirs is even capable of producing children."

He is splashed with cold water when Loki dives again, to rid himself of soapy foam. At least – Thor thinks – at least Loki will be able to handle Jotunheim. He has always been at ease with cold, capable of staying in icy waters much longer than Thor.

The thought is less comforting than he thought.

Loki walks out to seat himself on the decorative bench, dripping wet and completely naked. Thor can't quite stop himself from admiring his long legs, his muscled chest and the innate grace he puts into his movements. Even like this, he is the most beautiful omega Thor has ever seen.

"You're staring at me," Loki says. He tips his head back to look up at Thor when Thor wraps the towel around his brother's shoulder. There's something in his voice, a sense of wonder and longing. His eyes are wide-open, green and questioning. He blinks once, twice – droplets of water cling to his eyelashes. And his narrow lips curve into a smile.

Thor stares, and keeps staring. He wants to commit this to his memory – every feature of Loki's face, the shape of his nose, his eyebrows, his high cheekbones—he runs his knuckles over them, delighted to see Loki shiver.

His brother usually guards himself well. But he despises everything about his current situation, Thor knows this. From the onset of his heat – Thor remembers it very well, the panic in Loki's eyes when he noticed the attention he was receiving from alphas and betas, the subtle shift in his scent, spike of Thor's own lust when he breathed it in. Loki locking himself away in his chambers and then being forcibly put in that cell, to keep him safe. Some of that – frustration, vulnerability – now show on his face, in the unhappy curve of his mouth and his wide eyes.

"You can't imagine how I feel, either," he says softly. "I stop thinking when I'm in heat. It _hurts_. And you—" he gasps a panicked breath when Thor cups the nape of his neck. His heart beats louder, Thor can almost hear it. "You bring it out in me. You—"

Thor kneels down between Loki's parted thighs. Loki's shivering, not from cold; he seeks Thor's mouth, offering himself sweetly and easily. Thor captures his lips in a kiss, and deepens it, his tongue sliding hotly against Loki's.

"I can't control it," Loki moans between kisses. "All I want is to, to _please_ you, to roll over and wait for you to protect me, to make me yours—"

Thor's cock, long neglected, perks up. Loki isn't lying – his scent _changes_ , and Thor's mind fills with it. He isn't sure why it works that way. Maybe because Loki is still young and this is his first heat. It will probably settle later down into a more regular rhythm. Later, when Loki is with the Jotun.

Thor snarls and shoves Loki back. The bench is wide enough for him to lie comfortably and for Thor to settle down on top of his brother without crushing him with his weight.

"You _are_ mine," he says savagely, biting at Loki's neck. "And I will always protect you."

Loki whimpers, arching into Thor. His sharp nails dig into Thor's forearms, long legs curling upwards to wrap around Thor's waist. Their cocks brush together, but Thor wants—he can feel the slickness between Loki's legs, down where he is open and ready and _waiting_. He reaches there with one hand, scraping his teeth on Loki's collarbone; and then shoves his fingers into Loki's cunt.

It's so hot and sloppy, clenching around Thor's knuckles; he sinks in, easily, and works his fingers in and out, Loki writhing and moaning beneath him. The scent gets more potent and Thor shivers with want, plants a quick kiss to Loki's mouth and then chases it down to the source.

And, oh. It is so much more, between Loki's thighs: he looks and looks, parting the outer lips. They join at the front, forming the base of Loki's cock. His inner lips are red and swollen, glistening with slick. Between them – there it is, Loki's hole, ripe and gaping, clenching on nothing; Thor kisses it, gives Loki's cunt a broad swipe of his tongue and then curses when Loki's thighs reflexively close around his head.

"Lie still," he says, in the voice he now knows Loki will obey. His command is acknowledged with a low whimper, and a whispered " _please_ ".

His tongue slips over the folds, chasing the flavour. It's like the scent but so much more potent, musky and strange, going straight to Thor's head. He kisses it sloppily and then spears his tongue inside without warning, to the tune of Loki's startled cry.

He eats Loki out until his jaw aches and Loki sobs openly, his cunt thoroughly wet and his cock leaking copious amounts of precome. His fingers tighten in Thor's hair, presumptuous for an omega – but Thor doesn't mind. His brother is a mess beneath him, too incoherent to even beg. And Thor doesn't think he has ever been this hard. His cock is painfully stiff and his balls are heavy, ready to burst and fill Loki with his come. It's not – he shouldn't. Something tells him he shouldn't. A hazy memory—

He pulls back. Loki trembles at the loss, too weak to move but still capable of making needy little noises that break something inside Thor. He doesn't care about anything anymore, other than the tight heat of Loki's cunt closing around his cock—

His hips snap forward the moment his cock finds Loki's opening. He shoves inside in a quick, sharp motion, spearing Loki open and drawing a delicious broken moan from his lips.

It's better. It's better than his half-formed fantasies, his dreams, anyone else he has ever had. Loki falls apart as Thor fucks him, roughly and relentlessly. It's the only thing he knows right now, the slickness and the tightness he is pushing into, only to draw back, almost all the way out, and then dive back in, Loki's cunt greedily swallowing every inch of his cock.

He lifts Loki's hips to get a better angle, fucking into him more deeply with each thrust. His cock must have hit the sweet spot because Loki cries out and _comes_ , after a few shoves – and he clenches down around Thor, impossibly tight.

Thor grunts with the exertion. Loki can scarcely do anything more than lie there and take it, but he is so pretty with it: meek, obedient, eager to please. It's so unlike Loki, so rare and precious – and it's _Thor's_.

 _Mine_ , he thinks, with a deep thrust. He grips Loki's chin and kisses him roughly. "Mine," he growls into Loki's pliant mouth.

Loki blinks at him with startlingly bright eyes. "Yours," he repeats, breathlessly. "Yours—"

One last thrust – and he is coming, deep inside, at last – and Loki's cunt takes it easily, milking him dry, while Loki shivers and lets himself be kissed.

***

It's considerably harder to get Loki into a presentable state. Thor mostly helps by leaving as soon as he's able.

He watches Loki now – a flawless picture of a demure omega meeting an alpha. It strikes him how much bigger Angrboda is, dwarfing over Loki's slight form. If he so much as hurts Loki—

"He was to be unmated," the Jotun says after catching the mixture of scents clinging onto Loki's skin. They tried their best to mask it, but it was simply not possible.

"They are just boys," Odin says, by way of explanation. "No harm was done."

Angrboda shoots him a haughty look. He looks imposing with his blood-red eyes, and the deep blue of his skin—next to him Loki seems almost delicate.

"Where I come from, kin does not lie with kin," the Jotun sneers.

For the longest moment, Thor thinks Odin will not respond to the taunt. He has already made his displeasure known to both Loki and Thor, berating them on their short-sightedness and stupidity.

Loki isn't Thor's. He is Thor's brother. This temporary madness – this was nothing. Nothing.

Thor's hands ball into fists at his side. He doesn't care if anyone notices.

But then Odin says, "They share no blood."

Thor startles. Surely he has misheard? But it doesn't seem that way. And no-one is surprised – not even Loki, with his eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding Thor's gaze.

Angrboda takes Loki's chin into his cold blue fingers and tips his head back. He inspects Loki's face for a moment, a deep frown adding an extra line to the ones already etched into his forehead.

"He looks nothing like Laufey," he says.

Loki shoots him an innocent smile. "Why, my lord, are you disappointed?" he asks, faux-sweetly.

It's the first time he has spoken. And Thor—he keeps staring.

Loki's skin _changes_ under Angrboda's touch. It takes on a blue hue, spreading over his face—

Loki tosses his head, shaking off the hold. He quickly returns to his usual appearance, his skin pink and pale, normal, _Asgardian_.

He catches Thor's gaze – slowly and reluctantly, as if he was afraid of Thor's reaction. And in truth Thor doesn't know how to react, except to rush in and wipe that uncertainty from Loki's face with kisses and mad declarations of love.

"I will take him," Angrboda says. The low rumble of his voice seems to be coming from very far away.

Thor can only see Loki's bright green eyes and the resigned set of his lips. "It's a goodbye then," he says, ostensibly speaking to Odin and Thor both, even though he spares not a single glance in the Allfather's direction.

Outside, far away in the distance, a storm is gathering. Thor can feel it in his bones, even if nobody else can. But once it comes, oh, _they will know._

"No," he says. "It is not."

Loki shoots him a warning glance, unable to mask his displeasure. They spoke about it, had their last argument about the nature of responsibility and duty and—

And Thor doesn't care. He is done caring.

Because it's true: Odin cannot give Loki to Thor. Loki was never his to give away.

No, he is Thor's. Utterly, and completely, now and forever— _mine._


End file.
